Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin.
Author's Note—Kenshin is a woman in this story. And as a slight clarification, there is a difference between men's and women's kimono but for the sake of the story I am ignoring it. It isn't mentioned but Kenshin wears a woman's obi when she's working at Miss Mae's restaurant.
23. Like an art piece
Another night, another assassination. Himura killed the target and his two bodyguards easily. One of the bodyguards managed to catch her cheek with the tip of his sword, leaving a vertical scar that broke the illusion of her feminine features.
"Say you were attacked," Katsura told her when she reported to him. "You will have to be more careful from now on in case someone recognizes you."
She had put a bandage over the wound before she left for Miss Mae's restaurant the following afternoon. Miss Mae had expressed concern but had known better than to ask. Okita, when he came to visit her as he usually did, didn't hesitate to ask.
"Miss Himura! What happened to you?" he asked, his constant smile dropped in favor of a concerned expression.
"I was attacked," Himura said, bringing out the tray of sake and cups as had become their custom.
"I told you that it was dangerous at night for beautiful women like yourself."
"Forgive me, I should have listened to you."
"Miss Himura, is that blood on your collar?" Okita asked curiously. For a split second Himura worried that she had not cleaned her clothes thoroughly enough the night before and her victims' blood had remained; then she remembered she had a plausible excuse.
"It is from the wound. I had nothing else to wear," Himura said, touching her kimono self-consciously and sincerely hoping that it was stained from her cut as she had said.
"Really?" Okita seemed to consider this for a minute and Himura observed him suspiciously. What was he thinking? Okita smiled brightly at her. "I will buy you a new kimono!" he declared.
"Wh-what?" Himura blinked wide-eyed at him.
"Let me ask Miss Mae if I may borrow you for a few hours," Okita said, already standing and heading for the kitchen. He returned shortly and took Himura's hand, practically pulling her through the restaurant. "She said to get something green to compliment your hair. I know just the place!"
"Souji, sir..." Himura tried to protest as she was half-dragged through the streets. The sun was setting but there was enough light to guide them. Okita was cheerfully ignoring her soft protests as he led her towards their destination. Himura eventually fell quiet; intrigued, flattered, and more than a little embarrassed that Okita was holding her hand.
"Here we are," announced Okita as they entered a small clothing shop. Himura stood cluelessly as Okita surveyed the inventory of the shop and immediately pulled out a nearby kimono. It was a soft yellow color with little red fans on it. "Do you like this one?" he asked, smiling.
"Uh..." Himura stared at it blankly. She had never bought a kimono for herself before. Okita smiled and left her to talk to the shopkeeper. She absently touched a kimono, a bright purple one, and was amazed by the silky texture of it against her calloused hand. She realized she had never really embraced her femininity growing up, instead following the path of the sword that had been laid out for her by her teacher, and part of her wondered how different she would be if she had been raised like a proper girl.
An elegant light green kimono was thrust into her face, causing her to step back out of surprise. "What about this one, Miss Himura?" Okita asked. He was more cheery than usual, Himura noticed.
"It is too fine," Himura said, fingering the long sleeves. How could she explain this to Katsura?
"This would get in the way of your work, wouldn't it? What about a yukata then?" Okita suggested, looking to the shopkeeper. Himura watched as Okita and the shopkeeper rifled through the racks of clothes, arguing and suggesting one over another, until they presented a beige yukata to her.
"Souji, sir, this is too much," Himura tried again. "I cannot accept this from you."
"Miss Himura, please take it. I do not expect anything in return," Okita smiled brightly and Himura could detect no hint of deceit in his actions. She really shouldn't...
"It would not be appropriate. Others might assume that there is something between us."
"Is it really such a bad thing to consider?"
Himura looked into Okita's eyes. He was smiling but his eyes were serious and his voice was sincere. He was Shinsengumi, she couldn't think about him like that, he didn't even know who she truly was. But if he didn't know, if no one knew, then maybe it could work. Only three people in Japan knew that Himura was a part of the Ishin Shishi, Okita suspected nothing of the sort. She was sure she could keep it a secret from even him, she had been able to do it so far. With these thoughts, Himura made a choice.
"No, it is not," she said, taking the yukata gently. "I have never accepted a gift from a man before," she admitted softly, embarrassed. It was the truth; Shishou had made her work for everything he gave her, often in the form of meaningless chores. Really, what was the point in weeding a clearing in the middle of a forest!
"I will give you more," he said warmly, his pleased emotions spreading over her like a thick blanket in the winter. Himura felt that learning the art of courtship from Souji would be incredibly easier than learning swordsmanship from Shishou.
Of course, Himura had been wrong before.